


Welcome Back

by Decisnotonchairs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dammit Jim, Jim comes back from the dead, M/M, Minor Severin Moran/Richard Brook, Mostly Fluff, Mpreg, POV Sebastian Moran, Pregnant Sebastian Moran, Some angst, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-16 22:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decisnotonchairs/pseuds/Decisnotonchairs
Summary: Jim returns from the "dead" to a surprise...





	1. Chapter 1

Six months. I wouldn't be able to tell you what happened the month before I found out, but every day of these six months is burnt to my brain. Every morning sickness, every craving...  
And I even did a month by month photo. As if he'd come back, and would even care to see the development of our child. I wanted him to be here though. But he was dead, and I was alone. 

Well, not completely. I still have Severin and Richard to support me, but they weren't Jim. They weren't the baby's father, they were just the kid's uncles. But I appreciated the check ins my worried brother would do, and the caring warmth from Richard, which felt like another brother's love. And of course, I had my developing baby to give me reassuring kicks and punches. They did that often...Severin jokes that the kid's a fighter, like their daddies. 

Waking up alone was normal now, but groaning at a rather hard kick wasn't. Somehow I can survive a tiger attack, but my baby's kicking was sometimes painful. I carefully sat up, wanting to stay in bed. I rubbed my eyes as a softer kick occured, as if apologizing for waking me up. I couldn't help but smile and chuckle, rubbing my baby bump.   
"Its okay, cub," I murmured, smiling more. 

I heard the door open and thought it was my brother, or brother in law. I looked at the doorway, shifting. "Hello?" I called out, tilting my head. It was early for my support group to show up. But Severin's head popped into the doorway, making me smile more. He always had a concerned look on his face.

It made sense for him to be worried, to be fair; his baby brother (me) was pregnant and would be a single father when the kid decided to pop out. But he was happy for me too, which was also appreciated. Richard was too, and constantly reminded me of that.  
So I wasn't too full of grief thanks to the three of them: my baby, my brother, and my brother in law. But I was still sad, of course I was. My husband was dead...

"Sebby? How do you feel?" Severin dragged me out of my thoughts. I blinked away sleep and yawned, resting my hands over my stomach.  
"Tired. Doesn't help that this little bugger kicked me awake," I chuckled a bit. Severin raised a brow and chuckled a bit. He leaned down to hug me, which was greatly appreciated. I needed a hug at that moment. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes again. I let my brother's love-filled warmth comfort me.


	2. Chapter 2

After Severin left I got up to make breakfast. Poptarts, cookies and cream flavoured. At least I haven't craved pickles and ice cream yet, that may drive away my support group. I sat on the couch instead of going to my bed again, glad I had blankets and pillows nearby. I also had huge sweatshirts around as well, back when those could hide my baby bump. I don't know why I hid it from the pizza man or any other delivery boy, but I did.

Maybe it was a family thing. After all, Severin and Richard are my family, so it felt normal for them to know. But strangers? No. I don't want to be judged or be asked a million questions. Especially now, which was why I started cooking for myself. Or asked Severin to bring me food.  
Either way, I was comfortable on the couch with Poptarts (uncooked) and a hopefully happy baby. 

Maybe its just a me thing, but anytime that kid moves I just feel happy. Its like they know I'm alone in my flat and want to remind me that I'm not. Soft punches or kicks are the response to my babbling to my baby. I talk about my day, their uncles, what I wanna eat for dinner...but most importantly, Jim. The baby's other father.

They kick more when I talk about him. As if they understand from me just how amazing he was. That makes me smile as well, since its our kid, and our kid loves hearing about the times that Jim did something cheesy or romantic for me. And only me. His tiger...  
"I miss him, cub," I quietly said, resting a hand on top of the slightly large bump. A soft, comforting kick met my hand. I smiled sadly, rubbing the spot. "I wish you could meet him..."


End file.
